


Fall

by Lindel



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Shin Ankoku Ryuu to Hikari no Ken | Fire Emblem: Shadow Dragon, Fire Emblem: Shin Monshou no Nazo | Fire Emblem: New Mystery of the Emblem
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-05
Updated: 2020-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:15:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23019922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lindel/pseuds/Lindel
Summary: In a sunny, fall afternoon, the final steps in Michalis' plan to seize the throne of Macedon finally fall into place. Left with no other choice but to confront his father directly, the prince dwells on just how desperate his country's situation has become, and what brought him to the brink in the first place.(This is an older, edited + republished work, due to the request of friends!)
Kudos: 7





	Fall

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone - I actually posted this on an old account I deactivated years ago, and I took a break from the internet at large and took a lot of my works with it. I got requested by friends to republish this, so here it is!
> 
> This was originally mainly written to flesh out Michalis for an RP blog I did, but this is also in part an exercise for me to try and nail Michalis' character a little more on the head. When I was reading his supports from FE12, and reading his dialogue, one thought pestered me: did Michalis ever truly intend on winning the war? My first response was well, yes, OBVIOUSLY someone that narcissistic and arrogant would want to live to the end. But did he really try too hard against Minerva? With his lines about there being two paths that never cross, along with his attitude towards his nation over his family, I really thought that Michalis knew he was going to lose from the start. And by murdering his father, Michalis opened the door for the future of his country - I do truly think he wanted to live, but I don't think he wanted to /win/. Especially since it is revealed in a lot of other Archanea works that Michalis had planned on betraying Dolhr from the start. I'm definitely not saying that he wasn't an arrogant ass, which he IS, but I would say he's smart enough to understand the consequences of his actions. And being the prideful man that Michalis is, he definitely was going to seize the opportunity to undermine his father for one final time.
> 
> So basically, tl;dr, I think Michalis really just wanted what was best for his nation and to make his family proud: I don't think he ever truly meant to tear it apart as far as he did, but as things happened, he knew he would play the role of a villain and accepted his fate. And his role in the second game gave him the retribution I think he really wanted, in the end, dying or not.
> 
> Maybe I'm just reading into his character too much, lol. Anyways, here this is again, and I hope you enjoy. :)
> 
> Originally published by me in September of 2017.

  


Fall in Macedon was one of the few things Michalis always looked forward to. With its vast, rolling forests, the cascade of color on the horizon was always a beautiful sight to see from both the ground and up above. 

It was such a shame, then, for Michalis to see the faint clouds of smoke billowing in the distance. _‘Another bandit raid on the border’,_ is what he would have assumed, but that could not have been farther than the truth.

_‘It’s now or never.’_ Everything that he had been planning would soon be a reality.

The men he had hired to cause a distraction were doing their job well, as from his quarters, Michalis could hear the faint sounds of soldiers – his soldiers – clamoring to get their armor on, and to go and deal with the problem. Technically, he was on his rounds as well, his dragon flying faintly in the distance with a straw figure tied to the saddle to pretend it was him; but in truth, Michalis had slipped away to his chambers to prepare. He felt bad about it, truly, but… What he was about to do was for the better.

It had to be.

The hardest part was finding something appropriate to wear. It was common for the prince to be known to wear dark, muted colors; more often than not giving onlookers the impression of him being colder than he truly was. (Though, if he was being honest, the rumors about him were often truer than not.) So true, that he had been consistently questioning his father’s will – true, that he hated being seen in public while not covering his many scars, from both his own blunders and his dragon both. And most true of all was that he was one of the greatest dragoons that Macedon had seen, merely only barely a century when his nation was founded, and Iote last walked the earth beneath him.  
None would dare question his will. Such was a fact of the castle, and when he often walked the windowed halls of the palace, he would be greeted by shock and awe. And when armed with Iote’s shield, the very same that he now carefully strapped to his back, reactions all but multiplied twofold. Michalis was no fool, and neither was those he allied himself with.

As he often reminded himself, Gharnef was never to be trusted. He was the living incarnation of everything Michalis truly hated… The kind of man that could worm his way into the mind of a ruler. But, even with his caution, there was some truth to the words he would tell him upon his secret meetings – it seemed more and more apparent that with each passing day, his chance at holding the throne of Macedon was dimming like the sun in a night sky. It wasn’t that he loved Minerva, but it was more the fact that he had worked all his life towards it. And even as he was reassured by the words of his subjects during his visits to the countryside, he had two working pairs of ears. While most he heard about his future was optimistic, it seemed more an dmore apparent that most believed that he was going to lose his future. 

For protecting his nation, and for the future of it most of all, Michalis had to do his very best to hold his family together.

It was a damn shame he was about to ruin it forever.

Deep breaths, Michalis reminded himself, as he strapped the last of his armor on and slid on his clothing. Finding men to pose as Archaneans was easy enough. The men, far more concerned with the size of Michalis’ coinpurse rather than the fact he was sending them on a suicide mission, payed little heed to his warnings as of what to expect. And Michalis knew best of all, having trained his men, that they wouldn’t get away to betray his secret.

As Michalis slowly opened the large doors to his room, he checked again that he had indeed planned correctly with the different changing of the guard. There was a tiny window, one that he had pointed out before to his father, where there were no guards by or in his father’s quarters. And it was all too easy for the prince to slip through the hallways like a wraith, pausing in front of the doors before he entered.

It had been a few days since Michalis had last spoken to King Osmond. His last argument had ended with the prince having to fight every urge not to kill his father right then and there, as morbid as the thought had been. Half of Michalis’ problems stemmed from the fact that nobody took his warnings about issues on the border seriously – as small a nation as Macedon was, and even with the forests protecting the vast majority of settlements within, they were literally right next to their former oppressor. And Michalis was going to be damn sure no Macedonian would ever be a slave, ever again.

Which… Brought forth the plan for Michalis to ally himself with Dolhr, as they had originally been offered. The mere idea of it made his skin crawl. But, he was left with little to no choice. As Michalis had tried to do outreach with their neighboring nations, nobody cared to listen to their woes of losing resource, and the increasing pressures from his own people demanding answers for what was happening was driving the prince to the brink.

And when he was offered the chance to be able to protect his people from any possible invasion, along with the fact that they would be protected by their neighbors… Gharnef’s offer sounded too good to be true. Which, in part with every other excuse his father had made for them refusing to take any action at all, was his last plausible option. With Archanea refusing to listen to their pleas, the prince was now being forced to commit the worst types of crimes imaginable, in a society that valued families above all. He would be punished for it if word ever got out, and Michalis almost relished the thought of retribution. What he was doing, will very likely end up with him on the wrong side of history, at the price of his own life, but not his honor. And knowing that by tearing apart his family, he would be protecting his nation. Although it sounded like a small price to pay, Minerva, as smart as she was, would be sure to find out. And Maria, sweet little Maria…

Steeling himself as he knocked lightly on the door, Michalis’ gauntlets ringing in the empty hall, he let out a long breath when he heard the words, “Come in.”  
His father’s room was well lit, curtains opened to view the training fields below. They were high enough in the castle that only those flying at their level would see them, and for the sake of the King’s privacy, his windows were indeed enchanted to only see out, but not in. That special tinting would work to Michalis’ advantage, but for the matter of actually doing the deed was something else entirely.

Michalis was presented with a few options, at the suggestion of Gharnef. The first of which was inviting his father to dine, and pouring out the drinks himself to poison him; the prince had immediately ruled that out, pointing to the fact that it could easily be traced back towards him. The second option was to hire actual assassins to do the deed, then kill them himself. It was far easier to try and find people who wanted to cause some mischief, being disguised as he was when he hired them, rather than hire trained assassins to kill his father and then have to fight them himself. And so, he was left with the third, and final option: to disarm his father with his words, and plant evidence once the deed was done. How Michalis planned to get out of the room would be easy enough, as it would not be for another half-hour before guards would make it back towards Macedon’s highest tower. The kingdom had little to fear at the palace and castle-town, as Michalis had always done a good job of assaying people’s worries and fraternizing with his people. He had thought of it as his duty, then, to get to know his subjects better, far better than his father had ever done when he was at his age. And now it would be his downfall.

Returning his thoughts to the matter at hand, Michalis easily spotted the hunched figure of his father at his desk. Surrounding him were small mounds of paper (far less than Michalis had been footing, in recent days), likely petitions from his court to enact the very thing that Michalis was being forced to achieve. And Osmond had no idea what was to come from his only son.

“What do you need, my son?” Osmond asked, as Michalis calmly strode towards the table in the center of the room. On it rested a few books, writing supplies, along with an aged dragon saddle. Speaking as he ruffled through one of the saddlebags, the prince did not look up.

“I have thought long and hard since we last spoke, father. And in the time since, more than a few things have come to mind,” he states idly, as he finally grasps what he was looking for. A small scrap of parchment, no bigger than his hand, carrying the insignia of Archanea in its corner. The perfect thing to plant in the room, as inconspicuous as it was, upon his previous visit. And now, Michalis had the meticulous task of writing a murder note, as he distracted his father with his words.

“Oh? And what have you thought of, Michalis?” Osmond stated, with more than a few notes of curiosity in his voice. “Perhaps you have finally seen the error of your ways, and doing anything at this point will naught but bloodshed?”

Michalis pauses, then, and takes a deep breath. He knows he must choose his next words wisely. And the cold steel of the blade tucked under his sleeve slipped ever so slightly with his next breath. “I have thought long and hard,” Michalis says slowly, “about the mistakes you are making. How many times must I tell you, father, that people are dying already? Without your leave, I cannot drive back the men burning our crops and hurting our forests without an obvious attack. And even then, my skeleton crew is sent to clean up the mess.” There is a small growl to Michalis’ voice, but if his father heard it, he didn’t pay any mind.

…Which, he didn’t blame him for, considering almost all he had been doing lately was yelling at him for change.

“Michalis, my son. You know of my belief that help will come, no matter how long it takes.” That was a bald-faced lie, and Osmond knew it. “Besides, I have dismissed Dolhr’s offer. We may be a nation of warriors, yes, but I refuse to allow us to be dragged into any conflict.” While he spoke, Michalis had carefully opened the bottle of ink and began writing on the note. As Osmond looked over to him, he gave him a quizzical look. “... Forgive my eyesight, but that looks like it has the insignia of Archanea upon it.” He asserts, rising to his feet. “What are you planning, Michalis?”

Slowly setting down the quill, Michalis gave his father a placid smile. “I am planning to take action whereupon you have not.” It was a simple statement, and Michalis idly fanned the parchment with his cloak. “You will being the results of such fairly soon.”

“…Michalis,” Osmond groans out after a long sigh, “how many times must I tell you that you are not allowed to take action without my approval? Everything you do reflects back mostly upon me, and our nation as a whole. While you have done many good things in the past with taking action upon the obvious, here is where I draw the line.” He takes a few steps forwards, and holds out a gloved hand. “Give that here.”

With an ever so slight shake of his head, Michalis picks up the letter and pockets it in a sleeve. “Alas, this was your final chance to sway my decision. All that you have said merely confirms my suspicion that it is I who must take action, and see things to its rightful place.” As he speaks, Michalis lets the dagger slowly fall down through his sleeve, and slips the hilt into his fingers. Folding both arms behind his back, Michalis approached Osmond slowly. “Know that what I am going to do for us, it isn’t about you or me. It’s about Macedon, and our enduring legacy.” 

Osmond’s eyes widened, and although he could not see what was in Michalis’ other hand, he was no fool. The king began to turn to the desk behind him, scrambling for any available weapon that he could find. “Please, calm yourself, father. You jump to conclusions far too quickly…” Michalis murmurs, sliding around the desk. “Just as you did with Dolhr’s proposition. Such a shame that you, in your elder years, have forgotten our roots and neglected to practice your swordsmanship.”

Drawing the dagger, Michalis twirled it for a moment, hearing the panicked breath of his father as he murmured, “No, no, no…” Osmond backed up into a bookshelf, and Michalis quickly pinned him against it.

“Macedon was founded upon the backs of those who fought for our freedom, not those who sat and accepted our fates. And after everything I have done to make sure there’s a future for our family, what do you go and do? Lay down your arms and sit like a duck on a hunt, waiting for a peace that will never come. And war WILL come, whether you like it, or not. While Minerva may not become Queen as you were hoping to instate instead of me, I will be damned sure that as King, I will do a better job than you ever did. To protect our people, to hold our family together, and most of all, to prove you wrong.”

“Michalis, please, I-“ Slamming a fist into his face, Osmond sputtered as Michalis pressed the dagger even harder against his father’s neck.

“You have lost the right to speak to me. After all, have you been listening to me? Of course, if you were, we wouldn’t be in this silly little situation at all...” The prince drawls, drawing a few beads of his father’s blood on his dagger, “That note is to make sure none of this is pinned upon me. After all, who would want to have a King who murdered his father in cold blood? Not me, certainly, and not our people. But with that note, I can be free to claim my rightful place.”

“It’s such a shame,” Michalis says as he cocks his head, hair falling onto his face,” that it had to turn out like this. I do love you, let me make myself clear.” Plunging the dagger into his father’s heart, Michalis watched with sadness at his father’s face twisted in death. “What was that phrase again? Oh, yes.” Michalis muses with a sickly smile.

“The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb. Goodbye, father.” Michalis finishes, as his father’s body slumps against the bookshelf. Removing the dagger, his body falls to the floor, and Michalis leans down to wipe the blade on his cape, which hadn’t been stained with blood yet.

Hands shaking, as soon as he was finished clearing him of any evidence, Michalis unfolded the note in his other sleeve and placed it beside his father’s mangled corpse. He had little time to leave the room and get as far away as he could before the guards made their next round to the top of the tower. Which meant he had one of two options: try his best to dash down the flight of stairs as fast as he could, or break one of the windowpanes and call for his wyvern at the very last moment to avoid being spotted, as he had already deployed a large amount of Macedon’s forces already to fight the brigands. 

Seeing as the latter made the most sense, it was all a blur for Michalis as he tossed his father’s chair out the window and made a break for it. Taking a running start, he aimed for the nearby edge of the palace, that lead to the forest. As he fell freely to the forests below, the prince – no, now King, could faintly hear the sounds of commotion as the guards likely heard the glass break. When Michalis fell face-first into the rough hide of his dragon, Lutz, which flew low in the trees. Sliding off the bale of straw that had been strapped to Lutz, he let out muffled cry.

_‘I have done the unthinkable. There are no more excuses for me being weak, and I can have no more liabilities. Maria, for what I am about to ask of you … I am so sorry.’_  
And when Michalis returned to the palace later that day, claiming to be back from one of his routine flights, it was all too easy to feign shock at the pronouncement his father was dead; and gasped as he read the note that was left with him of how they would never receive any aid from Archanea. Of course, Michalis taking action before his father could have changed who the heir to the throne would be meant that he would be first to hear of it – the guard was treating the incident fearfully, as tales of insubordination in Michalis’ command was infamous in how he punished his men. Pretending to look distraught was another matter entirely, as the prince couldn’t find any other emotion but relief at his newfound freedom. And as if sensing that, the palace guards seemed to tense, before Michalis let out a long sigh.

“Did you find any other evidence on the attack? What of those brigands I spotted in the distance, while on my rounds?” Michalis asked carefully, trying to keep his voice calm and level. He would not be the type of King to crumble under pressure, this least of all. That being said, Michalis couldn’t hide the slight quiver to his voice as he then asked – “Do my sisters know what has happened?”

“No, they do not, sire. The council has called an emergency meeting, and your presence has been requested; I believe they plan to ask you how to deal with it, and informing the people,” one of his top Generals replied. _‘What was his name?... Oh, right. Rucke.’_

Nodding, Michalis pinched the bridge of his nose. _‘Now is the hardest part to act, the biggest piece that I have to sell.’_ “Would it be possible to visit either of my sisters, before I have to go? I would visit Maria, first, as, well…” He gestures with a hand. “She is young. I will not reach her in time before word reaches her, but I would have one of you inform her of me coming to visit before I arrive.”

“Of course, sire. It will likely take a while longer for all of them to assemble, as a few are out examining the remnants of the attack.”

“Very well. Please take Lutz to the stables, and continue to examine my father for… Any evidence. Forgive me, I…” He closes his eyes. “If this is truly an Archanean provocation, please send out a rider to Dolhr saying that we – I, King Michalis of Macedon, accept their proposition. Let this be known as my first act as king, coronated as I may not yet be. I am not alone here in not letting us stand for this, correct?” Michalis asked, to a chorus of ‘yes’ from all around. Letting out a pained smile, truthfully more from the enormity of everything rather than sadness for the dead, he turned his back on his men. “Then allow me to see to my family, and those of you who do not have anything to do right now, please spread word throughout the countryside that there has been an incident. Tell them the truth, that my father has been murdered at the hands of Archaneans, and that in the coming days, change will come.”

Turning his back towards the castle, Michalis murmurs, “And for the sake of us all, I hope that I will live to the end of the coming war.”

_‘Minerva… Your path will be different, I’m sure of it. You are far better a person than I could ever have aspired to be. I just pray you are ready to accept the throne when it falls to you. Because this arrangement that I have made will never last – I do not intend it to. And when the time comes, I will be ready to fall.’_

The sky opened, then, and Michalis barely registered the snow that began to fall.

  



End file.
